Subterfuge
by Odainath
Summary: An operation in London hits too close to home for Ros Myers and a former colleague finds himself embroiled in her world. Cross-over between 'Wire in the Blood' and 'Spooks.'
1. The End of Carol Jordan

**Subterfuge  
**_By: Odainath_

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**Author's notes: **This is a cross-over between 'Spooks' and 'Wire in the Blood.' I realise it's far-fetched, so please forgive me. I'm in Australia so the 6th season of 'Spooks' hasn't aired yet so I imagine there will be a great deal missing. Just consider the story to be AU.

I hope you enjoy. Please review; it's wonderful incentive to continue.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own 'Wire in the Blood' or 'Spooks.'

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**Chapter 1: The End of Carol Jordan**

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MARCH 5 2008

Ros Myers slammed her foot hard against the accelerator as she weaved through the streets of London. She yanked the steering wheel to the right and smelt rubber burn as she screeched the car to a halt.

"Ros!" Adam Carter said from next to her. "They've gone down the alley. Stop here."

She slammed on the brakes and both she and Adam jumped out of the car and sprinted after the two men who had roughly a 100 foot lead on them. She pointed the remote control key at the car and vaguely heard the locks click as she and Adam ran down the alley. Though she was shorter than Adam, the two ran at the same speed and were closing in the two. Adam's breathing was becoming laboured, not surprising in someone who'd had fairly recent heart surgery and he began to fall back. Ros didn't slow down, instead increasing her pace, though she was forced to roll onto the ground when one of the men fired a shot at her. She was on her feet almost immediately and was preparing to fire her own gun when a '_bang'_ sounded from behind her. The bullet passed her, hitting the leg of one of the running men. The other turned to look over his shoulder and she could see his eyes widen in panic. Picking up her pace, she started making ground on him and was eventually a mere six feet behind. He reached for his own gun and Ros leapt forward and tackled him to the ground. The two rolled over the ground, each battling for the upper hand, but Ros managed to pin him down and pressed her gun under his chin.

"Get up!" she spat, pulling him up with a strength that belied her slight frame.

She hauled him back down the alley to where Adam was. He had the other man's arm draped around his neck. Blood stained the man's trouser leg, and some dripped onto the pavement. Ros rolled her eyes but said nothing and continued to push her prisoner back to the car. She unlocked it with a click of a button and shoved him unceremoniously into the back seat. She leant against the door whilst Adam hauled the other man to the car. She opened the door and Adam pushed him inside.

"They need medical treatment," Ros said, rounding the vehicle. "Well, yours does," she amended.

She softened her words with a smile which Adam returned as he hopped in beside her and did his seatbelt. They drove at a much more sedate pace to Thames House where there were sufficient medical supplies to see to a superficial flesh wound. Ros flashed her ID and they made their way to the nearest place of entry.

Ron smirked at Adam. "How annoyed will Harry be if we take his parking spot?"

Adam shook his head in amusement. "He'll be fine, I imagine."

Ros said nothing as she opened her door and walked toward the doors. She turned before she began up the stairs.

"It won't matter to me," she called at Adam. He looked up in confusion but caught the keys she threw at him. "It's your car, not mine."

Adam laughed and Ros hurried inside. She called Harry on her mobile.

"Harry Pearce."

"Harry, it's Ros," she said as she began walking up the stairs. "We've got them but we need some medics. We have a flesh wound."

She could almost see Harry rolling his eyes. "I'll send two down, now."

He hung up the phone and Ros pocketed her mobile and continued walking. She reached the sixth floor, which housed Section D and swiped her ID. Jo glanced up as she entered and gave a perfunctory smile, which Ros returned to a degree. The two women would never be friends; Ros found Jo to be insipid and at times idiotic whilst she imagined that Jo viewed her as the bitch from hell. Ros walked to her desk but looked down at her clothing before she sat. As she'd suspected, there was blood on the cuff on her jeans. Adam walked in then, and she had to smile. Where she had a small amount of blood on her jeans, Adam's shirt and trousers were spattered with it.

"Adam, what happened?" Jo asked urgently.

"It's not his," Ros answered.

She sounded harsher than she meant to and held up an apologetic hand. "Sorry," she said, to both Adam and Jo; the latter who looked to be quite offended. "I'm sorry."

Neither said anything as she hurried to the conference room and shut the door behind her. There was a meeting in five minutes so her being here wouldn't be thought of as 'odd.' She shoved her hands deep into her pockets as she paced before the window. Ros knew she shouldn't be feeling so damned sad but, despite all her assertions to the contrary, a part of her would always be 'Carol Jordan' and _she_ felt dreadful that her team believed she was dead.

"Ros?"

She looked over her shoulder at Adam who had entered so quietly she hadn't heard him. She ran a hand through her hair, trying to regain her composure. He moved behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Ros? Is anything wrong?"

She shook her head. "No," she said, turning and walking around Adam to sit down at the table. Harry had called her and Adam for a meeting, and was running a few minutes late, which in itself was unusual. Most likely the two of them would be sent on some sort of mission that even the rest of the team couldn't know about. It was odd, she thought as she drummed her fingers lightly against the table, that she had been accepted so readily into the team. She was good officer, yes, but after the debacle with her father... she was surprised any of the security forces would touch her. "No," she repeated, when she looked up to find Adam with a sceptical expression on his face. "It's just... my old team, police team in CID would have found out I was 'dead', today."

"Ah," Adam said, sitting down next to her.

The two sat in a companionable silence, for which Ros was grateful. She and Adam had a certain connection now, after the disaster at the Thames. It had made her realise that despite all the work she did, all it took was one command and her life would end and be called 'collateral damage'.

"Adam, Ros," Harry greeted as he entered, jolting her to the present. He was holding numerous documents under his arm which he halved and gave to Ros and Adam.

Ros flicked through them, her lips pursed. "So this man, Hancock, is landing in London tomorrow, presumably on a fake passport?"

"Yes," Harry answered. He reached for one of Adam's documents and held up a photo. "We think he's after this man, Senent. Senent took a number of samples from an American laboratory. Now, we don't know what these samples are, but if Americans are going to these lengths to retrieve them, then they must be either extremely expensive or extremely dangerous."

"Or both," Ros interjected.

"Or both," Harry agreed. "I want you two to try and find both Hancock and Senent before things get nasty." He rose to his feet and nodded toward them both. "This needs to be handled carefully. No one but you two and myself even know that Hancock is planning on entering the country. I want it to stay that way."

He left them in the conference room and they poured over the files. Ros mentally ran through the conversation in her head, more than-grateful for her ability to remember conversations word for word.

"Okay," Adam said, looking at her. "We need a way to find out Hancock's passport name..."

"People need their passport to check out their luggage now," Ros said.

"That's true; if one of us can get in there..." He walked out of the room only to come back in a moment later with his lap top. "I'll pull out a list of airport employees..." He typed in the necessary passwords and overwrites and Ros briefly wondered how the British public would feel if they knew their details could be pulled up with a few keystrokes. "Now, let's wait and see if one of us could..."

"We could just watch the luggage area," Ros pointed out as faces began to flash over the screen. "But he might not even carry luggage."

"True," Adam conceded. "We'll still make ourselves some fake IDs."

Ros smirked. "Of course, I would expect nothing else."

Adam laughed as he closed the laptop. "C'mon," he said, ignoring her sarcasm. "We need to go."

The two stood and Adam placed a guiding hand on the small of her back as he ushered her from the room. It was highly unnecessary, but comforting nevertheless. Jo's eyes narrowed as they walked past and Ros suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. It seemed the young trainee field agent had taken a fancy to Adam. Well, it wasn't Ros's concern if she had a bit of a crush; she only hoped that Adam would let her down gently. Adam and herself grabbed their coats, and Adam buttoned his up tightly to hide the blood stain in the centre of his shirt.

"I'll drive you home," Ros said as they made their way to the car park. "There's blood on the back seat. I can't imagine you want Wes seeing that."

Adam conceded her point by shrugging his shoulders and stepped into her car, a black Lexus paid for by MI5. They drove silently down the London streets, toward Adam's apartment, but when he turned toward her, Ros knew that silence would be broken.

"Ros," Adam said quietly. "I know that you must be taking this pretty hard. You were Carol Jordan for years."

Ros straightened her back and looked steadfastly before her, pretending to be completely absorbed with the traffic.

"Ros," Adam tried again.

She shook her head sharply, indicating this particular conversation was over and Adam looked out the window, letting her be. Evening had fallen, and the London sky was tinged with shades of red and orange. If she didn't have a certain aversion to the Thames, she would have thought the light dancing over the water was beautiful.

"Here we are," Ros said, pulling up outside Adam's building.

He didn't move. "Come inside for a while," he said. "We could go over these plans. It would save time tomorrow."

Ros, whose mouth had opened to refuse, closed it again. She couldn't deny that it was a sensible idea so she nodded. The two exited the car and Adam again led her through the various corridors, even though she knew the way from her previous visit. She frowned to herself; her previous visit where her sole purpose was to gather information for a father who now sat in a prison cell. Adam opened the door to the flat and she headed for the kitchen and leant against the granite-topped bench. Adam, who held the files, placed them next to her and opened the fridge, withdrawing a bottle of white wine.

"Drink?"

Ros nodded and he took out two glasses. After filling them both, he handed one to her and gestured toward the files beside her.

"Shall we?"

She followed him to the table and sat down opposite.

"I thought we would get to the airport early," he said, leaning back in his chair. "And make ourselves some fake IDs. That shouldn't be too difficult. What flight is Hancock on?"

"Ten o'clock from New York," Ros answered. "Passports are being scanned in the states; if we hack into the database then we can track him much easier. That would begin to leave a paper trail. Malcolm has developed a program that allows this; all we need is any computer terminal in the Heathrow."

"Okay, so we position ourselves around the point he enters; it should be relatively simple to track him from there."

Ros snorted derisively. "This man is a trained professional, Adam," she said, taking a sip of wine. "We'll need our wits about us."

"Of course," Adam conceded. "You're right. But that is the basic plan, yes?"

"That's the basic plan," Ros affirmed.

She stared into her glass and swirled the wine around, not paying any further attention to her surroundings.

"Ros?" Adam said, breaking her thoughts. "You're taking this much harder than I expected. You haven't been in Bradfield for eighteen months..."

Ros's eyes snapped to his. "It means I can never go back," she said sharply. "I liked being Carol Jordan, Adam. She was a good woman. God knows how you'd describe me."

"She had a good case record," Adam said shrewdly. "I researched you when you first came to the team, and had a look at 'Carol Jordan'. Quite a few serial killers you got off the street."

She sighed and folded her arms across her chest. "I had help," she said heavily.

"Tony Hill."

Ros's eyes narrowed. "How much research did you do?" she asked.

Adam shrugged. "Enough. I'm curious though, Ros. There were a number of cases where you could have caught them earlier, using MI6 contacts etc.; but you didn't. That last case of yours, the Bradfield sniper, you knew who he was a fortnight before you officially caught him."

Ros nodded. "It wouldn't pay to seem _too_ good, Adam. People start asking questions, where you got the information from, how did you get it. I couldn't exactly say that I had a network of MI6 officers working for and with me."

"So you let people die."

"Yes," Ros answered immediately. "I obeyed orders. During that time I wasn't as highly ranked as I am now. My superiors didn't value my opinion."

"And Tony Hill? You let him take a lot of credit."

"I did," Ros agreed. "It was easier."

"And you wanted a relationship with him, and he with you; but neither of you did anything about it. Right?"

Ros paused before answering. "If you'd asked me that eighteen months ago, I would have agreed. But in hindsight... I was a specimen to him, someone to study. Kevin and Don, two of my sergeants, I think they cared about me more than he did."

"How so?"

Ros sighed. "We were investigating a murderer who began to correspond with me; he found out where I lived and sent a letter, etc. It was Don who followed me home to see if I got there all right, not Tony. Another time, a man had rigged a fertility clinic to explode; I got Tony out of there, but it was Kevin who grabbed me and used his body to shield me from the explosion, whilst Tony just walked away."

"They sound like they had crushes on you," Adam said smirking.

"They probably did. Now, that's enough chit chat." She rose to her feet and walked toward the door. "I'll pick you up at six," she said, reaching for the lock.

"Did you love him? Tony Hill?" Adam asked.

Ros looked back over her shoulder, eyes narrowed. "I hardly think that's any of your business."

"So, that's a 'yes' then?"

Ros didn't answer instead flicking her long blonde hair over her shoulder. Adam crossed the room quickly and manoeuvred himself so he was between her and the door. "I'm sorry," he said, holding up his hands. "I really am."

Ros glared at him for several prolonged moments before turning about sharply and heading back to the table where she flung herself down and crossed her legs. She picked up her wine and watched Adam angrily as he made his way back to the table.

"I _am_ sorry," he repeated. "I guess I'm just nosy."

Ros's mouth twitched in spite of herself, remembering when she said those same words.

"_Sorry, I'm nosy. Part of my job description."_

"Look, Ros," Adam said, leaning forward. "I've been undercover, I know how difficult it is to let go."

"No, you _don't_," Ros said through clenched teeth. "I was undercover for _five years. _Five years I spent siphoning information off to MI6. Five years I spent living as someone else."

"Why such a long operation?" Adam asked.

Ros sighed. "There was no real intelligence in Bradfield when I went in. They thought that a police officer would be able to gather information, not to mention find out if there were any terrorist suspects. If I thought there were, I could pass that on to my superiors. Then they decided to pull me out."

She shrugged in an attempt at nonchalance and took another – larger – sip of wine.

Adam tilted his head to one side. "Was Carol Jordan this defensive?"

Ros laughed shortly. "Oh, yes. She had quite the sharp tongue. Just ask any member of the press."

"Part of you must be glad that you don't have to pretend anymore, though," Adam said. "It must have been exhausting, being someone else twenty four hours a day."

Ros smiled, one of her enigmatic smiles that infuriated people as they never knew if they were from amusement or disdain. "Are you psychoanalysing me, Mr Carter?"

Adam looked down, beaten at his own game. "I don't think that's possible, Ros. I saw your psychological profile tape. I felt sorry for Dr Morgan."

"So did I," Ros countered. "You ran her quite the large circle."

"You asked Malcolm to let you view the file, didn't you?" Adam asked, grinning.

"The same as you, apparently," Ros answered, also smiling. She stood and handed Adam her empty wine glass. "I should go," she said.

"All right."

Ros crossed the room and as she reached for the handle, the door opened. She stepped back quickly to avoid being hit, demonstrating her almost uncanny reflexes and glared at Jenny who had clapped a hand across her mouth.

"I'm sorry," she said urgently. "I really am."

Jenny peered over Ros's shoulder and Adam watched as she took in the two empty wine glasses he was holding and the hurriedly put-together files. She dropped her hand and glared at Ros who now looked thoroughly amused.

"Six o'clock, Adam," Ros called. "Don't be late."

She went to side-step around Jenny but Wes looked out from behind Jenny's leg.

"Hello."

Ros inclined her head toward him. "Hello."

"You've been here before," Wes continued, looking up at Ros.

"I have been, yes."

"Do you work with Daddy?"

Ros looked to Adam. "I do," she answered. "You're very like him...inquisitive."

Adam bit the inside of his cheeks to prevent him from smiling; inquisitive was a much nicer word than 'nosy.' Ros smiled a goodbye to all of them and left the flat in a swirl of heavy, black fabric. Jenny turned to Adam and closed the door behind her with a muffled '_bang.'_

"Who is she?" Jenny demanded as Adam went to the kitchen and rinsed the two wine glasses in the sink.

He wiped away Ros's lipstick, a soft pink today, from the rim as he answered. "A field agent."

"Like you?"

"Like me," Adam said, turning to lean against the bench.

Jenny looked down at Wes who was watching their conversation with wide eyes. "Go and brush your teeth and then go to bed," she said gently. "Daddy and I will tuck you in."

Wes sensed that it was not wise to protest and went to the bathroom obediently. Now alone, Jenny looked to Adam, with the clear message of 'explain.'

"Is she good?" she asked, jutting her chin forward slightly.

Adam was taken aback by Jenny's reaction. She had no need to feel threatened by Ros who probably had as much inclination to start a relationship with him as Harry did.

"Ros is an excellent field officer. One of the best," he answered slowly. "I can't tell you more than that, Jenny," he said, cutting her off before she could ask the question that was already forming on her lips. "You know that."

Jenny nodded. "I do; it doesn't mean I have to like it."

She walked quickly to Wes's bedroom; Adam followed and the two sat down to read him a story. It would look like a normal domestic scene, he realised as he turned a page - it was quite amazing just how deceiving appearances could be.

XXX

Tony Hill shook his head, sending droplets of water flying through the air. Rain was pouring down outside and he shivered slightly as he walked through the air conditioned police station, which was always turned down far too low. He held his blue bag loosely at his side and swung it onto the nearest desk when he entered the Murder Investigation Unit. He glanced up and immediately knew that something was wrong. Paula, Kevin and Don were all standing close together, Paula leaning against Kevin's desk, with their heads bowed. Paula's eyes were tinged red from recent tears and both Kevin and Don looked as if they were ready to cry at any moment. They glanced up when they heard him come into the room but immediately looked downward again.

"Paula, Kev, Don?" Tony asked, moving further into the room. "What's wrong?"

None of the three answered, Kevin looking upward at the ceiling and blinking rapidly. Becoming increasingly annoyed at their lack of communication, Tony's eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to speak, to demand that tell they him what had made them so forlorn, when Alex Fielding's voice rang out behind him.

"Tony," she called from her desk. "I think it's best that you come in here."

Giving the other three officers a puzzled look, Tony nevertheless obeyed Alex and grabbed his blue bag before going inside her office.

"I think I've got something on that Mortley case," Tony said, withdrawing a sheaf of papers from the bag, all scrawled upon. "If you want..."

"Tony," Alex interrupted, holding up a hand. "Just be quiet and sit down."

Surprised at her formal tone, Tony sat down on the chair across from Alex's desk and folded his hands in his lap.

"Alex?"

"Tony, you obviously haven't heard," the brown-haired woman said, her dark eyes focusing on his.

"Heard what?" Tony asked, becoming increasingly annoyed.

"It's about Carol Jordan," Alex answered, biting her bottom lip.

Tony noted the choked sound of Alex's voice and hoped to god he was wrong about what had made her upset. She hadn't even known Carol, so the only thing that could make her this way was if...

"What about Carol?" Tony asked, dismissing that line of thought.

Alex didn't say anything for a while until: "She's dead, Tony."

He felt time stand still and the seconds felt like hours, days, before he could respond. He looked at her blankly, refusing to believe her. "No," he said finally. "There must be some mistake..."

"No, Tony," Alex said, shaking her head. "I'm afraid not."

He took a steadying breath and closed his eyes, willing the past thirty seconds away. "How?" he said finally. "How did she...?"

"A car crash," Alex said heavily. "I'm not certain of the details..."

Tony leant back in his chair, the tendons of his neck constricted as he willed himself to calm down. "She's dead?" he whispered. "God, no."

Alex said nothing and did not try to stop him as he walked from her office, not caring that he left his bag behind. Kevin, Paula and Don all looked up as he re-entered the room. Paula's eyes met his and she gave a straggled sob and held a hand over her eyes in a futile attempt to hold back tears. Kevin, in an odd show of tact, placed a comforting hand on her shoulder whilst Don, who stood at her other side, leant down so they were eye level and said something. Whatever it was, it made her smile and she ran her hand through her hair and took a deep breath.

"Alex told you?" Paula said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

Tony nodded mutely. He could not quite believe the amount of pain he was feeling; it was like a part of him had been ripped out, leaving an open wound. He had known that he cared about Carol, much more than in a professional sense, but this... this was unexpected. Tony walked past the trio, unable to say anything, and they didn't try and follow. All had been around him long enough to know that he was best left alone; this time was no exception. Tony walked through the police station without quite realising where he was going. He bumped into several people, but didn't wait to apologise. He set off toward home but quickly changed direction. Carol had come to his house often; she'd even bought him the coffee machine which took centre stage on his kitchen bench. He didn't think he could cope with seeing that now, not for a while at least.

He walked toward the university, in the hope he would be able to distract himself with paperwork. A pile of student essays sat on his desk, which had to be marked by next week; perhaps he could make a start on those. He nodded to himself; yes, that was the best thing he could do, distract himself. As he entered the university grounds, he heard students call him, no doubt to make an appointment to see him, but he ignored them all and made his way toward his office. He entered, grateful for its familiarity. A certain calm washed over him, but was quickly dispelled when he saw the mug on the corner of his desk. Yellow and blue, Carol had bought it for him after seeing that all his mugs were chipped with a warning; _"Be careful with this one, for my sake."_

"Oh, god, Carol..."

Tony collapsed onto his chair and leant forward, holding his head in his hands. After Carol had left for Johannesburg, he had felt hurt and betrayed, but he'd always thought she would come back eventually. It was that thought which enabled him to move forward, and to forge a friendship with Alex. He looked up and rested his arms upon his knees, feeling like the insecure schoolboy he had been over twenty years ago. Very soon after meeting Carol, the voice in the back of his head became hers. His conscience spoke with her satisfaction, her disapproval, her praise; and now knowing that she was gone forever made him feel completely lost. He sighed deeply but made no effort to move as his mind reeled back in time to many of the conversations he had had with Carol.

At the fish and ship shop, debating whether or not the serial killer could be female.

"_You are joking."  
_"_I'm a weed. You look fit, strong; I'll still win."  
_"_Right then."_

At his house, debating where or not a couple could be responsible for a spate of killings.

"_What about us?"  
_"_Us?"  
_"_You said every relationship."  
_"_That's a hard one."  
_"_That's why I asked."_

Joking after a case in her office.

"_I need you."  
_"_What, right now?"  
_"_Is that really such a horrible prospect?"  
_"_No, it's just that there's not much room on your desk."_

Finally, less than half-an-hour ago, Alex's voice.

"_She's dead, Tony."_

"Tony? Tony, what's the matter?"

He looked upward to find Kate in the doorway of his office, holding files to her chest. She walked inside and rounded the desk to stand alongside him. She placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently.

"Tony?"

She crouched down beside him and took his hand in hers. He turned to the side to find her eyes widened in concern. He knew this would be odd for her; it was usually him comforting people, not the other way around.

"She's dead, Kate," Tony whispered, hating saying the words out loud. It gave them that awful air of finality.

"Who's dead?" Kate asked. Her eyes lit with realisation, for she knew that only one person could make him react like this. "It's Carol isn't it?"

He nodded and Kate patted him on the back, unsure how to comfort him. Tony gripped her hand and pulled her toward him, holding her tightly. He'd never needed physical comfort, but now his fingers curled into the fabric of Kate's shirt and his breath hitched as he breathed erratically, almost to the point of hyperventilating. When he pulled back eventually, he looked away from Kate, immediately embarrassed.

"I'm sorry," he said softly. "It's just..."

His voice trailed off but Kate nodded in understanding.

"It's okay, Tony. I know how much she meant to you."

He blinked up at Kate, who had risen to her feet. "I wanted to take her to Paris..." he whispered. "I really did, but then she left..."

Kate said nothing and eventually he turned away from her, a not-so-subtle way of asking her to leave. He listened as Kate's footsteps faded away before rising to his feet. Immediately his eyes fell on the yellow and blue mug. _"Be careful with this one; for my sake." _Feeling an overwhelming sense of anger, he grabbed the mug from the desk and hurled it against the wall where it shattered into pieces.

_There's no point in being careful, now._

XXX

Ros threw her black overcoat over one the dining room chairs and glanced about her house. It was bare and minimalist; the only real sign that the place was even occupied was the stacked dishwasher in the kitchen. She walked toward her bedroom and, more importantly, its adjoining bathroom. She shed clothes as she entered, her boots left at the doorway whilst her stockings and shift dress fell onto the floor near the bottom of her bed.

"Ros..."

She stiffened and looked upward to find Malcolm perched on the edge of her bed. She glared at him angrily. "Jesus, Malcolm," she hissed. "Don't _do_ that!"

Ros noticed he was blushing and remembered that she was only wearing underwear. Not that it should bother him overly much, he'd seen her half naked a few months ago. Taking pity on him, however, she reached for the robe she kept hooked on the edge of the bed and tied the sash around her waist.

"What is it, Malcolm?" she asked, unpinning her hair.

He swallowed before answering, obviously still slightly embarrassed. "Harry sent me over," he explained. "He said that you needed me."

"Did he now?" Ros said with sardonic smile. "How kind of him."

Her voice was laced with innuendo and Malcolm blushed even more and looked down again.

"He said that you might need to hack into the airport database and as I am the computer expert..."

"You gave me a program that does that," Ros interrupted. "Several months back."

Malcolm's eyebrows shot upward. "I'd forgotten." He stood and looked about the room, focussing on anything but her.

"Malcolm," Ros said gently. "It's far too late to be driving around. Stay here tonight. There is a perfectly good spare bedroom."

He shook his head. "No, I don't want to intrude. I'll call a taxi..."

Ros rolled her eyes and let her robe fall to the floor. She crossed to where she had left her shift dress and quickly stepped into it.

"I'll drive you," she said, motioning for him to follow. "Just do one thing for me."

Malcolm looked at her suspiciously.

"Can you do up the zip?"

He laughed and did what she asked. The two left her apartment together, and Ros unlocked the car and stepped inside, waiting for Malcolm to do the same. He did so, and she pulled out onto the road, driving carefully. She knew that Malcolm was not the most socially confident person she knew and was surprised when he struck up a conversation of his own initiative.

"Ros," he said softly. "How do you do it?"

Ros turned her head, her brow furrowed. "Do what?" she asked.

"The field work," Malcolm said. "I sit in the office and get jitters seeing what you do. It scares me to think what it's like out there, doing the operations."

She took her time answering, trying to find the right words. "You just do it, Malcolm," she answered finally. "I trained to be a field officer, and that's just what I do." She gave a small smile. "And I'm good at it; that knowledge helps."

Malcolm nodded in understanding. "I see. And you are good," he added. "One of the best I've worked with."

Ros was touched by his compliment and was, for once, lost for words.

"I heard that 'Carol Jordan' was announced as dead today," he said. "I'm sorry."

Ros shrugged one shoulder. "My job was complete; it had to be done."

Her voice, though still soft, carried a note of finality and Malcolm said nothing until they reached his street. "This is mine," he said, pointing at a terraced house.

She pulled into the driveway and Malcolm hopped out the car. He leant down to talk to her. "If you need anything, Ros, just call me."

Ros made shoo-ing movements and he walked to the front door. She made sure he was inside safely before reversing out and heading back home. Malcolm was very similar to Tony in many respects, which had been both a blessing and curse when she had started at MI5. It was a blessing when she was feeling unsure and would go and see him, mainly to regather her composure; and a curse when she missed her old life as Carol Jordan. Ros flicked her chair over her shoulder and tightened her hands on the steering wheel. She had to focus on the upcoming job, not reminisce about a completed operation. She nodded abruptly to herself as she turned into her street. Her house looked so inconspicuous, so benign; it would be interesting to know what the neighbours thought if they ever found out they lived next to a spy.

She drove into her driveway and searched for the front door key as she walked up the gravel path. Her eyes fell on the lock on the door and immediately her body tensed. It had been tampered with – expertly at that – but she was one of the best in the business and could see the faint marks on the brass. Ros reached into her coat and pulled out her gun which she held loosely by her side. She threw open the door and it rebounded off the wall. A hand grabbed her from behind and clapped against her mouth. He – well she presumed they were a 'he' – dragged her inside and tried to make her sit down but she struggled furiously until someone else pressed a gun into the small of her back. There were two men.

"Sit down, Ros," one of them said, pushing her toward the sofa.

She knew better than to argue with a gun and obeyed. Her fingers were still wrapped around her own gun, not that she let either of them know that.

"Peter Hancock," the man in front of her said. "What do you know about him?"

Ros glared at him. "I don't know a Peter Hancock."

A hand tangled itself in her hair and yanked her head back. She grimaced but didn't let the pain she felt show.

"Let's try again. What do you know about Peter Hancock?"

Ros didn't say anything and he walked over and slapped her hard across the face. As he made to step backward, she kicked out and hit his shins, causing him to grunt in pain. At the same time, she pulled the other man onto the floor with her but his greater weight was an advantage and he pinned her down and smiled as he held his gun to her chin.

"Bad mistake, Ros," he sneered.

She head butted him and heard his nose break. As he reeled back in pain, his comrade approached and pointed his gun at her. Ros reacted quickly and withdrew her own. They fired at the same time, but whilst his bullet only grazed her arm, hers hit him between the eyes and he fell down dead. She sat up and hit the other man across the head, sending him flying. As she leapt to her feet, he shot at her, and she missed that bullet by inches. Her reflexes were faster than his and she managed to fire three bullets; two into the chest and one in the head.

Now alone, with two bodies, Ros reached for her mobile and punched in Adam's number. He answered on the first ring.

"Ros?"

She looked down at the bodies at her feet before saying anything. "Adam, I was ambushed when I got home. There are now two dead men on my living room floor."

Adam let out a groan. "Shit, Ros," he snapped. "Shit."

"Helpful," she said sarcastically. "Very helpful."

Adam clicked his tongue as he thought. "I'll call Harry; get him to remove the bodies. As for you, get some things together. You can stay at my flat."

He hung up and Ros stared down at her mobile. "Great," she said aloud. "I get to spend the night with a jealous nanny."

Rolling her eyes, she went into her bedroom and quickly threw a few things into a bag. Ros didn't want to be there when they arrived to collect the bodies. She sped through the streets of London and parked outside Adam's building. She tied the sash of her overcoat tightly around her waist, to hide the blood that had dried on her arm from her shoulder wound, and walked quickly to the flat. The door was unlocked and she closed it behind her and looked up to find Adam sitting on the sofa. His eyes widened when she took her overcoat off to reveal the bullet wound.

"Jesus, Ros," he said, rushing over and forcing her to hold her arm out.

"It's superficial," Ros snapped. "I'll shower and then bandage it up."

Adam led her to the bathroom. "There's towels and everything in there," he said, pointing inside. "Take as long as you need."

Ros gave him one of her trademark smiles, which after eight-or-so months he still couldn't read, and walked into the bathroom, closing the door gently behind her. He soon heard water running and sat down again. Trust this to happen to Ros, he thought, looking aimlessly around the living room. Only Ros could kill two men, have an injured shoulder, and still manage to appear her usual aloof self. The water stopped and Ros emerged, still drying her hair. Adam couldn't help it; he stared.

"Is _everythin_gyou own a designer label, Ros?" he said, gesturing at the nightgown she wore.

Ros glanced down and shrugged. "I like to look good," she said simply, flicking her still wet hair over her shoulder.

She walked across and handed him a bandage. "Could you?" she asked, sitting next to him. "It's in an awkward place."

He nodded and began wrapping the fabric around her shoulder, careful not to put too much pressure on the wound.

"Did one of them hit you as well?" he asked, pointing at her cheek.

"I was slapped," Ros answered. "Quite hard; but it should only be a faint bruise. Nothing that make-up can't cover."

Adam laughed as he stood and held out a hand. "I'll show you where you'll sleep."

Ros leant back and raised an eyebrow. "You've only got three bedrooms, Adam," she said shrewdly. "I imagine that there's one for Wes, one for Jenny and one for you."

"You can sleep in mine," Adam said, pulling her up.

Ros sat back down. "I'm happy here."

Adam rolled his eyes, knowing he would never win this argument. He went to the linen cupboard and withdrew a blanket, which he threw at her. She caught it easily.

"Goodnight, Adam," she said, already lying down. "We'll wake up at five thirty."

Ros turned away from him and Adam looked at her for several moments before going to his bedroom. He stripped slowly and slid under the covers, acutely aware that she was falling asleep on his sofa, in his flat, in that nightgown. Adam rolled onto his side and shut his eyes firmly.

"Five thirty, you're waking up," he told himself, willing himself to sleep. "Five thirty."

XXX

Paula sat slumped at her desk, staring at the computer screen in front of her. She hadn't been able to concentrate at all that day, though she tried to hide this from Alex. Don and Kevin were in similar positions, though Don had his elbow on the table whilst he cupped his chin with his hand. Kevin was leaning back in his chair, staring aimlessly at the wall opposite.

"Sod this," Paula said finally.

She stood and grabbed her bag, swinging it over her shoulder.

"Where are you going?" Kevin and Don asked simultaneously.

"Somewhere _other_ than here," Paula said, waving her hands around the room. "Everything in this damn place reminds me of Carol; even if she's been away for eighteen months. God, her bloody coffee mug is still here!"

She hurried out of CID before the tears could fall. Don ran after her, moving quickly for a man so big.

"Paula," he said, grabbing her shoulder. "Wait for us. Let's go to the pub."

She laughed despite the current circumstances. "When in doubt, go to the pub."

Don grinned. "Just give us a second."

Paula leant against the wall and less than a minute later herself, Kevin and Don were walking toward one of their favourite haunts; the pub around the corner from the police station. Paula ordered drinks whilst Kevin and Don found a table in the corner, where they wouldn't be disturbed.

"Here we are, luv."

She started as the barman pushed three beers toward her and she carried them precariously to the table. Kevin made room for her and Don raised his glass.

"To Carol."

They all chinked their glasses together but soon fell silently, each lost in their own thoughts. Kevin stared down at the amber liquid; he and Carol had frequents disagreements, or 'spats' as Paula had dubbed them, but he had always held her in high regard. He had genuinely liked Carol, had harboured a crush on the blonde woman. He'd even kissed her once, after the 'Mack the Knife' catastrophe. She was suitably shaken after just escaping from an exploding building and he'd driven her to her loft apartment and insisted on walking her all the way. She hadn't protested and he had led her to the door of her home. They'd both stopped then, suddenly embarrassed and Carol had gone to put the key in the lock, but dropped them. Kevin had retrieved them and when she smiled her thanks, had kissed her. She responded briefly, but soon pushed him away and bid him a goodnight. The two had never spoken about it, for which he was grateful.

"I was so angry when I'd found out she'd gone to Johannesburg," Don said suddenly. "But she wrote to me at least, saying goodbye."

Kevin and Paula nodded.

"She wrote to me, too," Kevin said, not adding that he kept the letter hidden from his girlfriend.

There were some things that he would never share; and the fact he'd had a crush on the 'boss' was one of them. He looked over at Don, who sat hunched over his beer. Carol and Don were good friends, and he knew that the Detective Sergeant would find her death hard to deal with. It had often been Don who she'd conducted interviews with; the two trusting the other enough to know which technique to use. Good cop/bad cop; who would play the good cop, who would play the bad cop. Would they be sympathetic, unsympathetic, downright rude; the list of options went on and on.

"I wonder how Tony is," Paula said. "He'll be taking it pretty hard."

Don rolled his eyes; it was common knowledge that he had little time for the forensic psychologist. "He'll look up a book on how he's meant to react," he said, drumming his fingers against the table.

"Don," Paula chided. "Don't say that."

He rolled his eyes again, but said nothing further, for which Kevin was grateful. He was inclined to agree with Don on that respect; Tony Hill did not seem to react like 'normal' people did. The three lapsed into silence again and all stood once they drained their drinks.

"I should get home," Kevin said, waiting for Paula to get out of the booth. "Christine will be wondering where I am."

The other two detectives nodded and Kevin left the pub and went to his car. As he drove home he kept seeing Carol's face.

"We miss you, Carol," he said, looking at the road before him without really seeing. "It was bad enough when you were in Johannesburg but this... I'm not sure how we'll cope."

He ran his hand through his hair as he pulled into his driveway and took a deep breath. "_I have to make sure that Christine doesn't see just how upset I am..." _With those final words, he took a deep breath, hopped out of his car and walked determinedly to his front door.

XXX

Ros curled into herself as she lay on the sofa, trying to rest. She wasn't too hopeful though; her mind kept lapsing to Bradfield and what her team would be feeling. As much as she had tried to keep her distance from her fellow police officers, she had become friendly with quite a few. Paula, her protégé; Don, her protector; Kevin, her sparring partner and John Brandon, her boss and friend. She sighed and turned so she was lying on her back; she had always wanted to work in the security services and had signed up the instant she had received her O-level results. She had scored the highest in her class, one of the highest in the country and she was welcomed into MI6 with open arms. This was followed by intensive mental and physical training, and she had emerged as the cunning and manipulative woman who would go to any lengths necessary to get a result in an operation she was today.

She closed her eyes, willing sleep to overcome her; the operation in Bradfield had almost been her undoing. She, as Carol Jordan, had become far too attached to a single person and it had been decided that she could no longer be objective and she was pulled from the operation. If someone else had replaced her, she didn't know, but she somehow doubted it. Screaming from the other room brought Ros out of the past and she sprinted to Adam's bedroom. He was thrashing in the bed, becoming tangled in the covers and he struck out when she placed a hand on his shoulder. She was forced to duck as his hand flew over her head, narrowly avoiding contact.

"Adam!" she said firmly, leaning over and pinning his hands down with her own. "Adam!"

He sat up so sharply that he knocked her off balance and she fell backward onto the bed "Wes," he said desperately, leaning forward and gripping the front of her nightgown. "Where is he?"

"He's in his bedroom," Ros answered calmly as she righted herself and began prising away his fingers. "It was just a dream."

"Just a dream," he echoed softly. "Just a... Ros, I'm so sorry. I..."

He let go of her abruptly and she fell backward slightly. "There's nothing to be sorry for," she said, giving him a rare, true smile. She swung her legs around and stood. "Can I get you anything? A glass of water?"

"No," Adam answered. "I'm fine."

Ros raised a sceptical eyebrow but nodded. "Okay." She glanced down at her watch. "It's four thirty. I'll wake you in an hour."

Adam rolled over and Ros watched him until his breathing steadied before leaving the room. There was no point, her going back to sleep, so she sat down and turned on the television with the volume down low. She flicked through the channels.

_Rising oil prices; global warming; terrorist attacks..._

Thoroughly depressed, she turned off the TV and threw the remote onto the coffee table. Adam's dream had shaken her somewhat; she was used to him being in such control, to see him sobbing like a child was more than disconcerting. His dream was obviously about Wes and Ros thanked god, not the first time, that she had no children. She couldn't imagine the terror Adam felt at the slightest indication his son was in danger. It was too horrible to think about. A noise caught her attention and she sat up to find Jenny standing at the opposite side of the room.

She was a pretty girl, Ros realised, but 'girl' was the operative word.

"Can I help you?" Ros asked in a far more gentle voice than usual; she had no wish to alienate Jenny.

"You work with Adam, don't you?" Jenny said, completely ignoring Ros's question.

"Yes," Ros answered, an icy tone entering her speech. She did not like the way she was being spoken to.

"Adam said you were good."

"Did he? How kind."

Jenny glared at her as she sat up properly. Ros ran a hand through her blonde hair, smoothing it down.

"Are you?" Jenny said coldly.

"What?"

"Are you good?"

Ros raised her eyebrows. "Oh, I'm very good," she answered in amusement. "Very, very good."

"Modest too."

Ros laughed shortly. "You find in this line of work that confidence is necessary. If that continues into arrogance then so be it."

Jenny's eyes narrowed and she opened her mouth to speak but Ros cut her off.

"Adam's dreams," she said, waving in the direction of her colleague's room. "Are they always like that?"

"You mean, does he thrash and scream every night?"

Ros nodded.

"Yes," Jenny said shortly. "For as long as I've been here."

"I see," Ros said thoughtfully. "Thank you."

Jenny glared at her a moment longer before going back to her bedroom. Ros snorted under her breath and rested her back against the armrest of the sofa, the blanket over her legs. Her shoulder throbbed from where the bullet had grazed and she looked down to find that blood had begun to soak through the bandage.

"Shit," she muttered under her breath.

With difficulty she began to unravel the bandage, wincing at the pain it induced.

"You need to wash that again before we go," said a familiar voice.

Ros didn't look up as she answered, instead rolling the blood-stained bandage into a ball. "Ten points to Adam," she said sarcastically. "For pointing out the obvious."

Adam laughed as he crossed the room and stood before her and she returned his smile as she raised her head.

"What's the time?" she asked.

He glanced at his watch. "Five fifteen."

Ros held out her hand and he pulled her up. She could see the muscles in his forearms tense, evidence of the intensive training he'd been though; the same as herself.

"Give me half-an-hour," she said, letting go of his hand.

Adam nodded and she went quickly to the bathroom. He heard the sound of a tap running and went into his own bedroom, taking out a simple suit which would suffice for most situations. It wasn't too expensive or inexpensive to stand out in a crowd. As he dressed, he thought about Ros. Overnight she had almost completely returned to her usual self; the seeming grief of losing 'Carol Jordan' behind her. He had overheard her conversation with Jenny, where she had displayed her trademark sarcasm. He shook himself from his thoughts and concentrated on buttoning his shirt and smoothing out the creases in his trousers.

Finally satisfied with his appearance, he went back into the living room to find Ros leaning against the kitchen bench sipping a cup of coffee. She handed him a mug which he took gratefully. Ros had opted for her usual professional appearance, with the cliché black overcoat she was especially fond of.

"Shall we?" she said, rinsing out her mug in the sink.

Adam followed her out of his apartment and together they walked down to the car. They both stopped in their tracks. The car had been completely totalled with all its windows smashed and body dented.

"Shit," Ros said, withdrawing her phone as she ran to the car. She dialled a number and Adam was able to hear one side of the conversation.

"_Harry, it's Ros."_

"_My car. It's been completely ruined."_

"_I was staying at Adam's after the incident at my house."_

"_Yes, send the replacement car now. And perhaps some protection for Wes?"_

Ros hung up the phone and placed it back in her pocket. She sighed as she turned around to face Adam.

"A car will be here in five minutes; someone to keep an eye on Wes and Jenny will be here in three."

She rubbed her temples; this was not shaping up to be a good day.

* * *

**Author's notes:** A typically long chapter which I hoped you enjoyed reading. Updates will be slow-ish on all my stories at the moment due to the lovely state of panic I am in due to the fact that exams are looming ever closer. That said, please review so I have lots of incentive to continue.

I'm not sure about the pairing for this one so ideas would be lovely.

Do you want Tony/Ros (formerly Carol) or Adam/Ros (in dedication to Season 7)? I'll see if I can accommodate whatever the majority is.

_Odainath_


	2. Dangerous Observations

**Author's notes:** A quick update! Thank you all for the reviews so far; it's brilliant knowing that it's been well-received.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own 'Spooks'

* * *

**Chapter 2: Dangerous Observations**

* * *

January 11 2008

Rain fell down from the sky in icy sheets and Detective Inspector Alex Fielding raised the collar of her overcoat and jammed her hands in her pockets in a futile attempt to protect herself from the downpour. She ran across the road, side-stepped an inside-out umbrella and jogged up the stairs of Bradfield University. Students jostled past her, jamming the corridors, but she soon managed to reach the location she wanted. She peered inside Dr. Tony Hill's office and her expression fell. He was standing at the window, staring out, with no readable expression on his face. He'd been like this for the past week after he'd found out the news about Carol and it was disconcerting to see him simply fading.

"Tony," she said, stepping inside.

"Leonard's not your man," he said, not turning around. "The profile doesn't fit."

Alex nodded as she crossed the room to stand next to him. "Tony," she said softly. "Why don't you take some time off?"

He looked to the side. "Kate said the same thing," he said with a humourless smile. "She's taking me to London on a conference."

"Oh."

The two fell silent for several moments before Alex spoke.

"When do you go?"

"The plane leaves in an hour," Tony answered.

"I'll give you a lift," Alex said, touching his arm lightly. "Come on, you'll be late otherwise."

He didn't move.

"Tony, let's go," Alex said a little more sharply.

He said nothing as he walked to his desk and took the suitcase she hadn't noticed was there firmly in his hand.

She gave him a small smile and together they walked through the halls of the university and outside. It was still raining heavily and they jogged to her car and got inside quickly. The two were silent on the journey to the airport and Tony got out the car.

"Tony," Alex called.

He turned.

"It will do you good," she assured. "Just getting out of Bradfield for a while."

Tony shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe you're right," he said, sounding entirely unconvinced.

He walked away from her and Alex stayed outside until the doors had closed behind him. Shaking her head, she pulled out into traffic and drove back toward the police station.

XXX

Adam leant against Malcolm's desk, trying desperately not to snap as he took them painstakingly through every detail of his latest piece of surveillance equipment. Hancock had arrived, as planned, six days beforehand and Zaf and Jo were currently keeping watch on him. They had also found out that Senent was placing a number of contagious diseases on the market, to give to the highest bidder. Ros was setting up a meeting with him, under the guise of a private buyer. She was meeting him that night, at the 'Maudsley' whilst she and Adam would pick up Hancock in the early afternoon.

"Ros, Adam," Harry called from his office where they had been collaborating with Malcolm about various devices.

Adam followed Ros who was already half-way across the Grid into Harry's office. He was placing a number of files in a briefcase and looked up as they entered.

"You two are going to accompany me to a meeting with the lovely Juliet," he said, clasping the briefcase shut. "Now, I don't want you mentioning a word about this operation. I've had intelligence that there is a leak somewhere in her office and this is far too important to be compromised."

Ros raised her eyebrows. "So what are we there for, Harry?" she asked. "Decoration?"

The flicker of a smile graced Harry's lips but left almost immediately. "That and I want you to do some basic reconnaissance of the building. I will say that I have received threats on my life and you two, seeing as there are no operations that require my two most outstanding officers at the moment, are acting as my bodyguards."

Adam laughed in amusement but quickly sobered. "Right then," he said, placing a hand on Ros's shoulder which she promptly shook off. "Let's go."

The three of them left the building together, Ros and Adam flanking Harry. Adam threw the keys to Ros and they hopped inside, making their way relatively sedately through London. Ros pulled up in front of Thames House and Harry and Adam stepped out. She lowered the passenger window and leant forward.

"I'll park out the back," she said. "I imagine you're coming back with Juliet, Harry?"

Harry nodded.

"All right. Adam and I will go from here straight from the airport to pick up Hancock."

Adam and Harry turned and walked up the stairs and Ros pulled away and drove around the street, searching for a park. She found one relatively close to the building and parked quickly, drawing impressed looked from passerbys. Ros clicked the locks shut and hurried toward Thames House. As she walked, she caught sight of a man, dressed in the cliché heavy trench coat, following her every move. Alarmed, she increased her pace and turned sharply into an alley. Knowing he would soon enter she gripped a drainpipe and hefted herself upward, using her body weight to propel herself forward. She rolled onto the roof of the building as the man turned the corner. She stayed crouched down and he looked around angrily. His eyes fell on the drainpipe and his face lit up with realisation.

"Shit," Ros hissed, rising to her feet as she heard him pulling himself up.

He was heavier than she was and his assent was cumbersome, giving her time to sprint to the other side of the building. She stopped in her tracks and swore, there was no drainpipe or other means of escape. The sounds of the man's climbing were getting louder and she cursed under her breath and lowered herself down, her fingers curling on the gutter. She looked about and judged the fall down. If it was done correctly, she would be fine; if she laid a foot wrong she could potentially have a broken ankle. Taking her chances, Ros let herself fall and said a silent 'thank you' when she landed unharmed, her ankle intact. She rushed down the narrowed street and turned into an arcade she knew led to a park which was always full of people and where she would blend in nicely.

Ros jammed her hands in her pockets and weaved through the crowd, keeping an eye out. Her phone rang and she pulled it out to see it was Adam calling.

"Ros," he said. "Where are you?"

"I was being followed," she answered, glancing about again but seeing no sign of her pursuer. "I've shaken him off and am heading toward Thames House. I'll be there in five minutes."

She hung up and hurried through the streets. Her eyes fell on another man who was crossing the street and her stomach twisted. She knew he wasn't dangerous, but he could still pose a problem. She turned with the pretence of looking in a shop window and held her breath, hoping he'd pass.

"Come on, Tony," she whispered to herself. "Be your usual unobservant self."

XXX

She was tall, the woman who stood by the store window, admiring the display. She exuded a certain arrogance, with her chin jutted forward slightly and an unreadable smile playing at her lips. At mid-to-late thirties, she still had a figure that many younger women would envy. Her arms were folded over her chest, and her back was almost unnaturally straight. She peered forward, seemingly looking closer at a jacket that was most prominent in the display, but her eyes were not on what was before her, but what was in the reflection of the glass. Apparently satisfied with what she was seeing, she straightened and glanced around her, noting her surroundings. She pulled up the collar of her back overcoat and strode off down the street, her boots clicking against the pavement.

Tony Hill looked at her as she turned the corner, his mouth ajar slightly. It couldn't be, he knew that, and yet that woman's resemblance to Carol Jordan, who he had been told was dead, killed in a car accident, was uncanny. He forgot that he was meant to be going to a conference and instead walked in the same direction as the woman. He turned the corner and looked about, finally spotting her far up ahead, near a set of buildings. Tony broke out into a jog to keep up with the woman's brisk pace, another similarity to Carol, who had often left him behind at a crime scene. Finally he had drawn close enough to slow down and he followed the woman down a set of alleys. He turned the corner, only to find out he had lost sight of her, and he cursed under his breath, more than annoyed at himself.

She had to be Carol, she just had to be. He stopped sharply and looked upward; the blonde pulled a mobile from her pocket and punched in a number. After a very brief conversation, she tucked into one of her coat pockets. Tony stepped back as she hurried down the stairs and once again followed her as she set off down a more brightly lit street. She reached a granite stone building and was walking up the stairs when he called out.

"Carol!"

She barely flinched, but her eyes flicked to the glass windows and he fancied that her eyes had widened slightly in recognition. This was dispelled almost immediately when another voice, with a much sharper accent, rang out from the entrance of the building.

"Ros; we're in here."

A man, good-looking with a lean appearance, waved and she nodded curtly toward him. She continued up the stairs, paying Tony no further heed, and disappeared behind the sliding doors. Tony stood still, breathing heavily, not believing what, or rather who, he had just seen. For he was certain now, after this further observance that Carol and this woman called 'Ros' were one and the same. He leant against the wall and stared at the ground. He had to be wrong about this, but surely no two people could possibly look that alike. He shook his head, as if to forget what he had just seen, but eventually pulled himself back together. His thoughts immediately fell onto this woman; she had lost weight since he had seen her last. Her body held no trace of curves, she was all sharp angles and lines and she looked... harder.

"God, Carol. Is it really you?" he said aloud to himself, drawing strange looks from those who passed by him.

He shifted slightly against the stone wall, debating whether or not to enter the building. Deciding on the former, he took a deep breath and jogged up the stairs. He walked through the glass doors and to reception.

The receptionist glanced upward, looking bored. "Can I help you?" she asked.

Tony paused before answering. "Maybe," he said, leaning against the high counter. "I saw a woman come inside earlier. She was blonde and wearing a black overcoat. I don't suppose you know her name."

The receptionist shook her head. "No," she said, turning to the laptop in front of her. "I don't."

Her voice was curt and dismissive and Tony nodded his thanks and pushed himself from the counter. He drummed his fingers against his thigh as he walked back out into the street, his mind reeling. Could it really be Carol? _The _Carol; _his_ Carol? One thing he did know was that he had to find out the truth. He crossed the road and sat on a bench, which was shaded heavily by a tree, but where he could see the entrance of the building clearly.

"Well, Tony," he muttered as he held his battered briefcase to his chest. "Let's wait and see."

He drew his coat tightly around him and wished for a scarf; he hadn't noticed how cold it was when following Carol, but now he was still the chill hit him with full force. He looked ahead of him, and his thoughts fell back in time. He had arrived in London three days ago under the pretence of going to a number of conferences, but the real reason was to get away from Bradfield. He didn't kid himself, he knew he was here because he hated being at the police station without Carol and he had thought that a change of location would help ease some of the pain he felt. Instead, after seeing this Carol look-alike, he felt more lost than ever. Alex, Carol's replacement was a more-than-competent police officer, though Tony felt that she didn't have the same tenacity as Carol. Perhaps because she had things which distracted her from work like her son whereas most of Carol's life centred around the job.

Tony sighed and slumped back in the seat but quickly sat upright when he caught a glimpse of blonde and black and his eyes immediately flicked to the stone stairs. The woman was walking down the street with the man who had called her, and the two were talking intently. He rose to his feet and followed about thirty paces behind, allowing at least three people to hide him for view lest either of them turned around. At the corner, the two separated and Tony continued to follow the blonde woman.

As if sensing she was being watched, she stopped abruptly outside a grocery store and lowered her gaze. She turned her head to one side, her blue-green eyes flickering over the very area when he stood. Her brow furrowed slightly when she saw him, but she shrugged her shoulders, and set off again. Tony knew that she could simply not know who he was; if this were the case then he was mistaken and she wasn't Carol but if she was Carol then she could have pretended that she didn't know him so that he thought she wasn't Carol.

Tony blinked slowly; no wonder people thought him mad, even he was having trouble swallowing what he'd just thought. Nevertheless he walked after this woman, analysing her every moment. She walked the same as Carol, confident and brisk, but many professional women walked like that. She held herself like Carol as well, with her eyes straight ahead, almost daring someone to confront her. The woman turned the corner, and this time Tony lost her for good. Thoroughly disheartened, he pulled a map of London from his pocket and tried to figure out the best route to get back to his hotel. In his pursuit of this woman, he had managed to get completely lost.

He smiled in spite of himself. If that woman was Carol Jordan, she'd be thoroughly amused at his current predicament.

XXX

Ros met Adam at the car and he saw immediately that she was worried about something.

"Ros?" he asked, catching the keys she threw at him. "What's happened?"

She closed her eyes as she stepped inside and rubbed her temples. "I just saw Tony Hill," she said softly. "And he saw me."

Adam's fingers tightened around the steering wheel. "Did he recognise you?" he asked.

"I don't know," Ros said, shrugging her shoulders. "He followed me but I'm not sure if he's going to believe that he actually saw Carol Jordan or if he thinks I'm a woman who looks like her."

"Jesus, Ros," Adam said, punching the side of the steering wheel. "Do you think you're compromised?"

Ros shook her head. "No," she said firmly. "Tony won't tell anyone what he saw. I'm sure of that."

Adam scowled but said nothing and the two of them sat in silence until they pulled into the airport car park. Adam managed to find a park relatively close to the entrance and the two exited, Ros throwing her overcoat onto the back seat. She smoothed down her blouse and followed Adam inside, the two walking quickly.

"What time does the plane arrive?" Ros asked, as they walked through the glass doors.

"One o'clock," he answered. "Did Malcolm find out what name he is flying under?"

Ros gave a half grin. "David Branson; how appropriate for flying."

Adam smiled as they made their way through the crowds, jostling with the general public. Malcolm had made them false ID's and they were now known as 'Christine Hapgood' and 'Robert Daly.' They reached the destination terminal of Heathrow Airport positioned themselves at either side of the exit. Ros smiled graciously at people as they passed while Adam adopted a fed-up employee demeanour and was given a wide berth.

"Can you at least _attempt_ to smile?" she hissed into her ear piece.

Adam scowled and she rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the terminal. Passengers soon began arriving and Ros scanned each of them, her eyes finally falling on Hancock. Adam turned at the same time as she and the two followed him through the various shops. As she drew close, Ros deliberately tripped and as Hancock turned to look Adam came up on his other side and twisted his arm behind him and pressed a gun in the small of his back.

"Call out and I'll kill you," Adam hissed in Hancock's ear.

"You wouldn't do that," Hancock jeered.

Ros rose to her feet and tilted her head to one side. "Maybe not," she agreed. "But if he didn't kill you, I would."

Hancock glared at her and the trio walked through the crowd who were all too focused on other things that they didn't notice a man being hurried along with a gun to his back. They walked sedately through the car park and Adam pushed Hancock into the back and kept his gun trained on him whilst Ros went to the front. She got in and drove as quickly as she dared back to MI5 headquarters. The guard, whom she had had more than one altercation with, opened the gate and she parked close to the door. Adam dragged Hancock out and took him downstairs, where they kept suspects. Ros went in the opposite direction, upstairs, and Harry rounded on her the second she entered Section D.

"Did you get Hancock?" he demanded as she went to her desk.

"Of course," Ros answered, typing in her password. "Adam's taken him downstairs."

"Good," Harry said, nodding. "Good work. We'll let him sweat and then interrogate him. Actually, Adam and I will. You have a dinner to get ready for. I want you to be flirty and aloof at the same time, Ros."

Ros leant back in her chair. "Quite a paradox there, Harry."

"True," Harry conceded. "All right, I want you to act like your usual self, maybe cut down on the sarcasm a little though."

"Your wish is my command, Harry," she said drily, displaying some of that sarcasm.

His mouth twitched in an attempt not to smile and he turned and went to his office, closing the door behind him.

Ros checked her email, but then looked about to see if anyone was watching. Finding that no one was, she used a program that she had conveniently 'forgotten' to hand back to Malcolm, and hacked into the Bradfield Police intranet. Her fingers flew as she opened up Paula's account. The young DC had a number of emails, mainly innocuous, but she had one from Kevin which she had forwarded to Don with the subject title of 'Carol.'

Intrigued, she clicked on it and opened the email.

_Paula,  
__I was talking to Alex; we need to access some of Carol's old files, but she had put up some sort of firewall that no one seems to be able to get around. Even the techies can't seem to crack it. Don't suppose you can think of a password?  
__Kevin_

_Hey Kev,  
__Try 'Nelson'; she loved that cat, but it seems far too easy and obvious, not like Carol at all. I forwarded this to Don to see if he any ideas, but that's all I can come up with.  
__Paula_

_Kev and Paula,  
__I have no idea. Who was that guy that attacked her, the rapist? Maybe she used his name for whatever reason; she did have some weird ideas. You could try 'Tonyhill', but that's like 'Nelson', it seems too obvious.  
__Don_

_Don and Kev,  
__None of the passwords worked. Techies can't crack it. But wasn't her brother a computer whiz? Maybe check that out.  
__Paula_

Ros logged out and cleared the screen. She's forgotten about the security measures she'd put on her files. She shrugged her shoulders; a techie would figure it out eventually, though they did lack someone like Malcolm. A smile crossed her face; she could well imagine the three trying to guess her password. Paula would look to the ceiling, Don would fold his arms and pace whilst Kevin would lean against a table and stare at the floor. Her smile disappeared; this reminded her that Tony Hill had seen her today, even called out her alias 'Carol'. She bit her lip; hopefully he would think himself mistaken and forget the whole incident. In the mean time, she had a dinner to get ready for.

XXX

"What's this?" Zaf said as Ros slid her coat from her shoulders so that Malcolm could attach some sort of device to the hem of her dress.

"What?" Ros snapped, glaring down at Malcolm who had just prodded her leg with a pin by accident.

"Sorry," Malcolm said, giving her an apologetic smile. "It's all done now."

Ros shrugged the coat back on and sat down at Malcolm's command. He withdrew a large needle with a familiar looking listening device and Ros groaned.

"You know I hate needles," she said, tilting her head so Malcolm could access the skin behind her ear.

"I do," Malcolm affirmed, carefully inserting the listening device.

Ros grimaced as the needle wormed its way underneath her skin. She shook her head, hair flicking over her shoulder and glared at Malcolm who looked thoroughly amused. Ros wasn't afraid of many things, so something as trivial as needles was unexpected.

"What is this?" Zaf asked again, looking Ros up-and-down.

"An operation, obviously," Malcolm said, recapping the needle and placing it carefully in a sharps bin.

"Which you are now a part of," Harry interjected, coming to stand next to Ros. He eyed her critically. "Good."

"How am I a part?" Zaf asked.

"Adam and Jo are also going to dinner," Harry said. "You will be at the back entrance. To assist if need be."

Zaf nodded. "Okay."

Harry turned back to Ros. "What time are you meeting Senent?"

"In half-an-hour," Ros answered. "I'm heading off now."

She turned neatly on her heel and walked quickly across Section D. She suppressed the urge to rub behind her ear; whilst the device was small, it still niggled and she wanted nothing more than to somehow get it out. Suppressing that particular urge, she went to the underground car park to get her new car. She got inside the new Lexus and pulled out. She saw Adam get into his own carpark and together they drove in the direction of the Maudsley.

"I'll park around the front," Ros said into her earpiece. "You park out back."

"Okay."

Ros turned the corner and quickly parked her car, locking it behind her with a click of the remote. She quickly glanced at her reflection in the window, making sure her hair was in place. Nodding at herself, she squared her shoulders and walked into the restaurant. Her eyes immediately fell on Senent. He was a tall man, broad-shouldered and was also very good-looking. He rose to his feet and she walked to the table and nodded toward her.

"Corinne Eden?" he asked.

Ros nodded as she sat down and angled her body toward him. "And you must be Robert Senent?" she said with a small smile.

"That would be correct," he said also sitting back down.

Ros assessed him; here was a man who knew he was good-looking yet he seemed to wear his looks almost with disdain. His attire was formal, but unlike many of the other men in the restaurant he wasn't dressed in Armani and didn't try to fit the suit. It was if the suit fitted _him_ in a manner not always achieved even by tailoring.

"Shall we get down to business?" Ros said, crossing her legs so a small amount of thigh was exposed. "Or shall we eat first?"

Senent gave her a broad smile and Ros was grudgingly impressed by how he had appraised her briefly but then returned straight to business. Many men lost their head when placed with an attractive woman but it appeared that Senent wasn't one of them. "We're in a beautiful restaurant, Corrine," he said, gesturing around the room. "We should sample the food."

Ros returned his smile. "I agree entirely."

XXX

Kate rolled her eyes as she straightened Tony's tie. They were in his hotel room and should have been at their location five minutes ago but Tony was dragging his feet so to speak.

"Really, Tony," she chided. "It's not that difficult."

"I don't see why I have to go," Tony said, straightening his suit jacket. "You're much better at this sort of thing."

"Oh?" Kate asked, raising her eyebrows as she stepped back.

"You are," Tony said. "I'm socially inept..."

His voice trailed off as he remembered a conversation with Carol.

"_You're a little... secretive. But you'll do."_

"Tony?"

He was brought back to the present by Kate's voce and she gave him a small smile.

"You were thinking of Carol, weren't you?" she asked softly.

He nodded. "I can't help it," he answered. "One minute I'll be fine and the next..."

"I know, Tony," Kate said, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I know."

He gave a deep sigh. "I suppose we should go," he said heavily.

Kate nodded. "I'm afraid so."

XXX

Ros leant back; her arm draped over the chair and surveyed Senent coolly. He looked back and she noticed a small smile tugging at his lips. They had finished their entrées and were now waiting for their main meal which seemed to be taking a considerable amount of time.

"Miss Eden," Senent said, leaning forward and placing one elbow on the table and rested his cheek against his hand. "You haven't told me why you require my services?"

Ros gave a chilling smile. "I wasn't aware you cared, Robert," she answered.

"I don't," Senent agreed. "I'm simply making conversation."

Ros laughed shortly. "Then talk about the weather."

Senent raised one eyebrow; he was smiling but his eyes were cold as he tried to read her expression. "All right," he said after a pause. "It's been quote cold, wouldn't you agree?"

Ros inclined her head toward him. "I do."

Silence.

"A number of my business interests lie in Iran and there are certain people who oppose these interests," Ros said, leaning towards him. "I need to... how can I say this...?"

"Get rid of them?" Senent offered.

"Precisely," Ros agreed. "And you have the means for me to do that."

Senent leant forward further. "A good answer, Corinne," he whispered so softly she could barely hear him. "Very good."

Ros sat upright again. "I'm glad you approve," she said drily.

He smiled fully at her as the waiter arrived at their table.

"Sir and Madam," he said, placing their plates in front of them. "I hope you enjoy your meals."

Ros said nothing as Senent nodded toward the waiter.

"I'm sure we will."

XXX

Tony and Kate entered the restaurant together and whilst Kate spoke to the maître-d Tony glanced about, his eyes scanning his surroundings. There were many couples in the restaurant, though there were also groups of four and six scattered about.

"Tony, we're over here," Kate said, tugging his sleeve.

He allowed himself to be led through the restaurant and they were seated in the corner. Kate smiled at him as he continued to look around and Tony's brow furrowed as his eyes fell on an adjacent table. The man he had seen that morning was seated there with a pretty woman and they were talking intently. Tony continued his observations and his eyes widened dramatically when he saw the woman he had mistaken as Carol. She was speaking with an almost impossibly good-looking man and their conversation seemed to be intense for their expressions were both glacial and under his trained eye they looked to be playing each other.

"I just need to go to..." he said distractedly.

"Tony?" Kate said in concern. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," Tony muttered. "Nothing..."

He rose to his feet. The movement must have caught the attention of Carol's doppelganger for she glanced at him briefly. Turning her attention away from him, she took a sip of wine and then exploded into a fit of coughing. Her companion handed her a napkin which she took gratefully. He was obviously asking her if she was feeling well but she waved a dismissive hand and gave him a smile. Tony blinked; this was unbelievable and yet...

He walked through the restaurant toward the blonde woman but she said something to her companion and stood. She weaved her way through the tables and disappeared from sight. Tony followed her out back and caught a glimpse of blonde hair. As he turned the corner, a hand grabbed his arm and twisted it viciously.

"What do you think you're doing?" a voice hissed.

He found himself being pulled through the various corridors and was unceremoniously shoved into a small room.

"What is this...?" Tony began.

He didn't get a chance to answer as he felt a glancing blow on the back of his head and his world dissolved into black.

XXX

Ros sat back down across from Senent and gave him an apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry about that," she said, touching her chest lightly. "Truly.

Senent waved a lazy hand. "There are worse crimes to commit, Corinne," he said carelessly.

The corners of her mouth twitched. "Agreed."

"Eat, Corinne," Senent urged. "Before it gets cold."

Ros gave a true smile as she reached for her fork and twisted it in the pasta.

"We have yet to agree on a price," Senent said as she took a mouthful.

Ros nodded thoughtfully as she chewed. "What were you thinking?" she asked, swallowing her mouthful.

"Oh... it was twelve vials you wanted, correct?"

Ros nodded again.

"Shall we say one million per vial?"

Ros reached forward and took hold of her wine glass. "Let's drink to that?" she said, holding her glass upward for a toast.

Senent laughed as they chinked glasses. "Let's."

XXX

"She's made the deal," Adam said softly. "Zaf, do you copy?"

"Copy, Adam," he heard Zaf say.

"Did you take care of Tony Hill?" Adam asked.

"Yes. I've put him in a room for now. I'll let him out when Ros has left the building."

"Copy."

Adam looked up at Jo who was biting her lip thoughtfully. "Is he going to be a problem? She asked, knowing that 'problems' were often eliminated.

He shrugged. "I'll talk to Ros when she gets back to the Grid and see what she thinks."

Jo nodded. "What are you guessing she'll say?"

Adam paused before speaking. "I think she'll want him alive."

XXX

"Well, Corinne," Senent said, extending a hand towards her. "To sound horribly cliché, it's been a pleasure doing business with you."

Ros laughed as she shook his hand and wasn't all together surprised when he leant forward and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

"Touché, Robert," as she slid her coat over her shoulders.

"I will text the location of tomorrow's meeting to you in the morning."

He nodded toward her again and turned to walk in the opposite direction. Ros watched him briefly before walking to her own car and unlocking it with a click of a button.

"Did you get all that?" she asked as she stepped inside and started the engine.

"Loud and clear," she heard Jo say. "We'll be able to pick him tomorrow when you meet again.

"And Tony Hill?" she said, pulling out onto the street.

There was a pause. "Zaf spoke to him," Jo said eventually.

"Spoke?" Ros asked sceptically.

"Well, in a manner of speaking."

Ros gave a heavy sigh. "Will he be all right?"

"Yes," Jo answered. "Though Adam wants to speak to you about him."

"Tell Adam that he will stay alive," Ros said sharply, turning the corner.

"Copy."

Ros parked the car several streets away from Thames House, lest she was being followed, and hurried into an apartment building she knew had easy access to the next street where she could then blend in easily.

XXX

Tony gingerly touched the back of his head, wincing as he felt the sizeable lump. He'd come to only moments beforehand and he unsteadily rose to his feet, using the wall as support. His head was throbbing and he opened the door and staggered into the corridor, nearly running into a waiter.

"Woah, mate," the waiter said, grabbing his shoulder. "What's happened?"

"I'm not really sure," Tony admitted.

"Well, you need to sit down," said the waiter.

Tony followed him into an office where he gratefully sat down.

"Can I call anyone?" the waiter asked.

"My friend is in the restaurant," Tony answered. "Her name is Kate."

The waited left the room leaving Tony alone with his thoughts. This simply couldn't be a coincidence. First him seeing Carol – and he was certain she was Carol now – and then being assaulted. The two were surely linked. He looked up as Kate entered.

"What on earth happened?" she asked, rushing toward him.

"I don't know," Tony replied. "I was hit from behind."

_But I know Carol is alive._

She looked at him critically. "We need to get that looked at," she said, gesturing towards him. "Let's go."

XXX

"Ros, what are we going to do about Tony Hill?" Adam asked the instant Ros walked into the Grid.

"Leave him," she answered promptly. "He will not tell anyone what he saw."

"How can you be sure about that?" Adam demanded.

Ros fixed him with a cold smile. "Because I know Tony Hill," she replied. She glared at Adam, daring him to argue with her and when he didn't, turned to Malcolm. "Did you get everything?" she asked.

"Loud and clear," he answered.

"Good, he's sending me the location of the meet in the morning so I'm going home to get some sleep."

"Do you have any idea of where he might want to meet?" Adam asked.

Ros raised her eyebrows. "No," she answered. "Now, if that's all..."

She turned and walked back out of the Grid. Adam watched her retreating figure.

"Do you think she's right?" Jo asked, coming to stand next to him.

"I trust Ros's judgement," Adam said.

He knew he wasn't quite answering Jo's question but said nothing further as he walked to his desk and sat down.

XXX

Ros walked quickly through the streets of London, her coat collar pulled up high to obscure her face. She had just left an internet cafe where she had hacked into various databases using skills she had learnt from Malcolm and found where Tony was staying. She stood out the front and surveyed the building. There were numerous exits so she knew she would have no real trouble getting out if she needed to. She walked up the steps and nodded at the receptionist who looked bored and paid her no attention as she walked up the stairs.

Tony was staying in room 303 and she knocked on the door and quickly walked away to see if he was inside. There was no answer and she came back and quickly broke inside. The room was already showing signs of Tony's occupancy; there were new books scattered over the table and his clothes were bundled in a blue plastic bag. Her eyes continued to travel around the room and they fell on a framed photograph. Immediately her breath hitched; it was a photo of herself and Tony at some sort of celebration. They had the look of people on their way to being drunk and were toasting toward the camera.

She shook her head; she had to find out if Tony was putting to paper his observations. She began rifling through his papers which were all covered in his familiar scrawl but found nothing. She turned to the laptop and inserted a USB. In an instant she had copied all data and she set about searching his files. Finding nothing, she closed it and was about to leave when she heard two familiar voices.

"Kate, I'm fine," she heard Tony say.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Ros's eyes widened and she looked to the window which was ajar. Sighed, she hefted it open and looked down, never more grateful to see a fire escape. In an instant she had lowered herself onto her escape, leaving the room empty, the only sign she had ever been there the open window.

XXX

Adam sat down in Ros's living room and waited for her to arrive home. He suspected that she had gone to seek out Tony Hill and was growing increasingly impatient when the door flew open. Ros stepped inside, her gun pointed directly toward him.

"Adam, what the hell are you playing at?" she asked angrily, lowering her gun and striding across the room.

"Where were you?" he asked, ignoring her question.

"I hardly think that's your business," she snapped, pouring herself a glass of scotch.

"Did you see Tony Hill?"

She glared at him over the tumbler. "No, I didn't," she said coldly.

"Then where were you?"

Ros gave him a sardonic smile. "Getting my nails done."

Adam sighed as he rose to his feet. "Ros, he's seen you twice now. He's not going to forget that."

She jutted her chin forward as he stood in front of her, barely two feet away. "As I've said, Adam," she said coldly. "He will not tell anyone."

"Ros, you're too close to him to be objective," Adam said softly. "You know that."

"So you don't trust my judgement?" Ros asked angrily.

"It's not that I don't trust you, Ros," Adam placated. "But the fact remains that you are too close."

"What do you propose I do then, Adam?" Ros said, her eyes narrowing. "Pull out?"

He paused before speaking. "No," he answered. "Your work is still impeccable."

"Well then?" Ros demanded.

Adam said nothing.

"If my work is still to standard then we don't have any further to say," Ros said coolly, walking across the room and opening the door.

Adam didn't move.

"Unless you're going to impart some sort of pearl of wisdom upon me, Adam, we really don't need to say anymore," Ros said pointedly.

"I suppose not," Adam agreed, walking to where she stood. "Look, Ros," he said. He paused and to her immense surprise leant forward and kissed her on the cheek, echoing Senent's movements earlier that night. "If you ever need to talk," he said as he pulled back. "I'm..."

"Thank you, Adam," Ros interrupted.

He gave her a small smile and stepped onto the porch. Ros closed the door behind him and walked to the sofa where she sat down and looked at the ceiling. Seeing Tony had rattled her more than she cared to admit. She closed her eyes and exhaled deeply. An instant later they had snapped open and she rose to her feet and went into the bathroom. Her dress fell in a puddle at her feet and she kicked it away as she stepped beneath the scalding water. The droplets pounded against her skin, each a pinprick of fire and she turned her face upward to allow the water to stream across her face. Her skin protested and she at last turned away and opened her eyes.

The shower had the effect of washing away her thoughts and she gave a thin-lipped smile as she reached for the bar of soap.

XXX

"Of course, I might be mistaken about all of this," Tony said to no one in particular as he paced the floor of his hotel room. "This woman might simply look like Carol."

He paused in his musings briefly.

"But the similarity is too uncanny," he continued, shaking his head. "No two people look that alike. Add to that the fact that I was assaulted after approaching her... to silence me, I wonder? Though that is absurd... but stranger things have happened..."

The phone rang, breaking his train of thought and he grabbed his mobile.

"Tony Hill."

"It's Alex," he heard on the other end. "You were right, Leonard wasn't our man. He was killed this morning..."

Tony raised his eyebrows. "Like the others? A single bullet wound to the base of the skull?"

"Yes," answered Alex. "Then wrapped in plastic..."

"Oh?" Tony interrupted. "That's a departure. He's becoming more careful."

"That's what I thought," Alex agreed. "Look, Tony, would you be able to get back to Bradfield? I have a feeling this case is going to get more and more complicated."

Tony paused. "I'll catch the next flight," he said, making up his mind.

He hung up the phone and glanced about the room. It took him only moments to pack and he left the hotel room quickly and hailed a taxi.

"Heathrow airport," he said to the driver.

He sat back in the seat and his brow furrowed. "The woman simply has to be Carol," he said, earning himself a strange look from the driver. "But how would I find her? London is a big city... I could ask those at the restaurant but I doubt they would give me any details..."

"You right, mate?" the driver asked, looking into the rear-view mirror.

"Hmm?" Tony said, drawn from his thoughts. "Yes, yes I'm fine."

* * *

**Author's notes: **This is a two-part chapter as it was becoming ludicrously long. I haven't written the second part so an update will be a while as due to their length chapters take a while to write.

Keep up the reviews; they're incredibly encouraging!

_Odainath_


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